


Nitori's Declassified (Bad) Food Survival Guide

by BlakeBroflovski



Category: Free!
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, M/M, more characters to be added as they emerge, this is probably going to be equal parts hilarious and heart-wrenching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:45:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeBroflovski/pseuds/BlakeBroflovski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nitori searches for advice on getting over a crush, "get a new one" is not an option he would've envisioned.  Moreover, he would never have expected it to accidentally succeed in spades.</p><p>Your results may vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

> _With the regional tournament over, Rin-senpai has reconciled with Nanase-senpai and the others. Thank goodness._
> 
> _…I’m glad for him, but… it feels as if Rin-senpai is moving further and further away from me and it makes me feel lonely._
> 
> _No, it’ll be okay!  That can’t be right!  After all, Rin-senpai said he would make the best team at Samezuka.  I’ve put even more effort into my training so I can enter the relay with him._
> 
> _Also, what made me happiest of all was when… after the regional tournament was over, Rin-senpai called me by my first name.  He called me “Ai.”  It’s the same way he calls Nanase-senpai “Haru”!  In other words, it means that Senpai recognizes me as a fully-fledged athlete!_
> 
> _…it's okay if he doesn't call me that all the time.  It's because he only calls me that some of the time that the happiness when he_ does _call me that increases!_
> 
> _Nitori’s Roommate Diary, September._

 

The captain had begun perched on the edge of his desk chair and leaning on his knees, but now he sprawls belly-down over the bottom bunk with his long arms folded under his chin as Ai'ichirou Nitori occupies the chair he has pushed up against the window, one stockinged foot tucked beneath the opposite thigh, twisting his fingers around each other tirelessly.

He can feel Mikoshiba's gaze upon him, but he doesn't meet it, nor does he reply to the captain's question — primarily from diffidence, but also because he feels the answer is obvious.

Rin had gone for an afternoon workout, and after chewing his lip with trepidatious second-guesses and third-guesses and tenth-guesses for nearly twenty minutes, Ai had forced himself to leave the room and summoned the nerve to rap timorous knuckles on the door across the hall.

Mikoshiba had welcomed him in with the same energetic warmth as always, offered him a seat that Ai had declined with a demure mumble, and asked him what was up.

Ai hadn't meant to spill everything so quickly.  He hadn't meant to spill everything at all.  But out it had come — _I've got a really big crush on someone I know is never gonna like me back and I don't know what to do about it you've got a lot of experience with people and relationships and stuff right I just thought maybe you could give some advice since you're so good at reading people I don't know I'm sorry_ — and the captain had headed him off with polite shushing and by guiding him into the chair, roosting on the end of the mattress instead.

From there, his position had slowly rotated on the comforter to keep facing Ai as he had scooted his chair deeper and deeper into the curtains, folding up within himself as he'd moved.  He's not sure why Mikoshiba had gotten comfortably casual and laid down at last, whether as a means of attempting to keep Ai calm or simply from giving up on maintaining formality, but whatever the case, he'd continued to prod answers out of his junior.

_Are you sure it's hopeless?  Have you asked?  How can you be sure if you haven't asked?_

_Is it strong enough that it's affecting your daily functions or is moving on not an option?  Do you have anything to distract you?_

_Is there anyone else you can get close to until it passes?_

And then, there had come the coup de grâce—

_Who is it?_

Ai attempts to scoot back farther, but the chair is nestled tightly into the glass and won't budge without scratching the frame.  He's probably already gouging the paint as badly as he's gouging his cuticles, but the knowledge and guilt don't stop him from doing either.

Mikoshiba lifts his head and props himself on his elbows, and the movement attracts Ai's gaze before he can stop himself.  The captain's voice is deep and resonant but gentle, like purring, and he says, "If you really don't want to say, I respect your privacy.  But just so you know, there's only so much I can do to help if I don't get an adequate picture of who exactly we're dealing with."

Ai sighs so heavily he feels like his body might crumple as if thrown into a vacuum.

"Can I guess?"

He squints his eyes shut against the question.  "Do you have to?"

Mikoshiba hums ruefully and muses, "I can't help but think I'm partially responsible.  It was me who told you to room with him, after all.  Not to turn this into a thing about me or anything," he tacks on rapidly, "but I'm just saying, we're both in the boat of being rejected by Matsuokas straight out of the gate here, aren't we."

That hadn't even occurred to Ai, and the weight of nauseated remorse drops in his stomach.  Of course he's not the only one dealing with the crushing defeat of rejection, even though his own is preemptive.  How could he have become so self-absorbed in his own dumb issues as to forget his captain is a person too and has his own problems to deal with?  Ai clenches his fingers to dig nails into his palms.  He was a fool for coming here.

"I'm sorry," he stammers to his fists, "I shouldn't have bothered you with this, I didn't—"

"Nah, nah, it's cool," he assures, waving Ai back into the seat he'd been halfway toward vacating.  "No worries, dude.  Lemme just, if I may? offer a bit of advice that worked for me."

At the prospect of getting past this stupid suffocating emotion and moving his focus toward better things without hindrance, Ai's gaze is instantly caught by the captain's, and his hands freeze, his body sucking in a gulp of air too deep and sharp for his fragile chest.  His voice still comes out tremulous.  "Of course, captain."

"Get a new crush."

His mind pauses, because this wasn't at all the response he'd anticipated.  He'd thought perhaps _focus harder on your studies_ or _find a new extracurricular_ or even _hang out with someone new_ , but this is almost non sequitur.

"Captain?"

"Direct your affection toward someone else.  Deliberately stop paying attention to him, and start paying attention to another person."  The captain kicks his feet up and swings them idly over his backside.  "When you're doing it on purpose, eventually you'll fall out of the unconscious habit of noticing Matsuoka.  And since it's not real in the first place, once you've stopped paying attention to him, you can stop paying attention to the fake crush too.  Problem solved."

Ai pulls his feet onto the chair and tucks his chin over his knees.  "Does that really work?"

"Course it does."  Mikoshiba sits up and rocks back onto his toes, arching his back so as to prevent his head from hitting the top bunk even at its considerable height.  "Told you it worked for me, didn't I?"

He knows the captain wouldn't intentionally lead him astray, but he's still doubtful.  "You sure?"

"Absolutely.  The only question is, who would work for you?"

Ai excavates debris from beneath fingernails he knows he really ought to trim.  "Who'd you go with?"

The question is out of his mouth before he can consider prudence, but Mikoshiba doesn't seem to mind.  His laugh sounds like the bark of a large cat.  "Let's get you settled first!"  Ai is uncomfortable with the idea of Mikoshiba picking out a crush for him like they're shopping for a new swimsuit, but before he's able to vocalize his hesitation more than a few incoherent preambling mumbles, his captain gives a cry of inspiration.  "I've got it!"

Ai shrinks back in his seat.  "You do?"

"Well we wouldn't want you out of the frying pan and into the fire," he says, sliding off the bed and leaning back against the frame, "so crushing on someone already spoken for is probably a bad idea.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've gotten the impression you're pretty much only friends with me and Matsuoka here on campus, so we'd have to go with someone else—" he bristles at the captain's use of the word _we_ , as if he has an equal investment in this, but his boisterous proposition doesn't give Ai room to interject "—and looks like the people you're in contact with the most are those Iwatobi guys, right?  So," he says, crossing his arms over his light t-shirt, "it seems to me like the little guy and the butterfly are already a thing, and I'm pretty sure Nanase is too occupied with Matsuoka to notice anyone else, so… what about Tachibana?"

Ai hasn't taken the time or effort to store anyone's name but Nanase, and even that's mainly because Rin mentions him every other breath and leaves him no choice but to catalogue his name.  The others are simply place fillers, people Rin once knew and is attempting to know once more, just people ambling into his life and plucking Ai's only friend away from him.  Their names are irrelevant.  In fact, he's almost offended at the notion of developing feelings for one of them; the only thing that stills his tongue is the reminder that he has no one else, and if this cuckoo scheme actually worked for Mikoshiba, he's not willing to rule out the possibility that it could work for him too.

He tries to extrapolate which one "Tachibana" is.

He doesn't really remember seeing their butterfly guy in action because Rin had taken his place the only time he'd seen the relay, so he can't be sure which one is him, but going from Mikoshiba's assertion that he's "a thing" with "the little guy," he thinks it's a safe guess that the butterfly is the one with the glasses who'd failed to dive on the first day Ai had met him.  He's nearly always got another boy hanging off his arm, a blond boy who's easily the smallest of the group by a whole head.  He remembers seeing that one take the starting block during the district race, and he thinks he's the breaststroke guy.

He's sure there's another one, since Nanase is the anchor and therefore someone has to start with the backstroke, but he can't remember his face.

Perhaps Mikoshiba reads his cluelessness, because he says, "Tall guy?  Brown hair?  Built like a brick house?"  Ai thinks back, trying to place that description on someone in the Iwatobi lineup, but it's not until Mikoshiba supplies "green suit and goggles and stuff?" that he remembers.

It was at prefecturals, and he'd been participating in the backstroke alone.  Ai had just returned from congratulating Rin on his victory, and as he'd moved across the bottom of the stands, the boy had shed his Iwatobi jacket on the sidelines and drawn Ai's gaze with the movement.  His gaze had lingered for a moment as the boy had stretched his shoulders and popped his back.  He remembers being impressed on some level by the clear, sculpted cuts of his musculature, but he hadn't realized the image had stuck with him.

He lets out his held breath in a sigh of resignation.

What's the worst that could happen?  He'd develop a second crush on top of the first?  He's sure that wouldn't be much of an additional load to bear, since at this point, it would sort of be like giving a paper cut to someone who's been run through with a sword.  The damage dealt, anything more is almost meaningless.

He shrugs.  "I guess I can try."

"That's the spirit!" the captain cheers, reaching over to clap Ai over the shoulder.  He doesn't vocalize how much it stings.  "I'll get a joint practice together and we'll get this ball rolling!"

He wants to sigh again, but he doesn't see the point in it.  He only wishes the captain were a bit less intrusive about this, but he recognizes the good intent, and appreciates Mikoshiba opening his door to him in the first place, so he supposes he isn't really in a position to complain.  He'd asked for this, after all.

He shuffles on stocking feet across the hall and back to his own room, the captain's reassurances chaperoning him.

He hasn't finished studying the reading he's supposed to complete for tomorrow's English class, and he's sure if his father were to hear about that he'd enter a quiet passive-aggressive rage fit to give Ai nightmares for months, but after that heavy conversation with the captain, he's too tired to bother.  He drags himself up the ladder and flops face-down onto his bed, groaning his frustration into the pillow.

He isn't aware of growing drowsy or falling asleep, but when he wakes, all the lights are off save for a soft blue glow emanating from the bottom bunk.  Ai peeks his head over the edge and finds Rin there, texting one-handed with a smile ghosting across his face.

When did he get back?

Rin notices his head and jumps, but calms himself and nods toward Ai's desk.  "Brought you dinner.  Didn't wanna wake you."

His gaze follows the direction indicated by Rin and notes a plastic bag on his blotter, formed around the shape of a box.

He'd come back _and_ he'd brought food, and Ai hadn't noticed?

He supposes he's been pretty occupied with this Tachibana dilemma, but he hadn't thought it would take effect so quickly, the mere idea of it distracting him from acutely noticing the minute details that normally derail his entire train of thought.

Somewhere, the weight in his chest begins to lift, if only a little.

Perhaps this might actually work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even gonna bother trying to make an update schedule for this; just understand that I've got work and commissions and conventions and health problems and crap, so I'm probably going to be all hells of inconsistent. Apologies in advance.
> 
> Until marked otherwise, all translations for Nitori's Roommate Diaries are courtesy of tumblr user [great-blaster](http://great-blaster.tumblr.com) and can be found [here](http://digitalscratch.pmsinfirm.org/?p=6552).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guide to: crippling parental pressure and dealing with confusing upperclassmen.

The joint practice is scheduled for next week.

Ai's heart flutters uncomfortably every time he remembers.  Either this will be a terrible disaster and he'll never get over his feelings for Rin, or it'll turn out exactly as planned and it will change everything.

Both eventualities are rightfully terrifying.

He sits at his cluttered desk, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against the tip of his nose, and tries to resist the compulsion to ask Rin for help with this English question he's read through at least a dozen times without absorbing a single word.

Maybe Tachibana is good at English.

He wonders what Tachibana is even like.  He knows he could identify everyone on the Iwatobi elementary team by full name at some point, but he's embarrassed to admit his fixation with Rin has effectively drowned out the rest of them.  Tachibana must not have a memorable presence if Ai couldn't even recall who he was without serious prompting, but if the guy is as big and strong as the image Mikoshiba's words brought back to mind, why wouldn't he stand out?  Ai wonders what kind of personality would make such an intimidating build fade into the background so easily.  He doesn't doubt his captain's judgment or powers of character assessment, but he really hopes this isn't going to be a fruitless endeavor in match-making two completely incompatible souls.

On the other hand, though, he hopes that it is, and that something in the attempt stirs Rin's interest in him.

He sighs heavily into his pencil.  It's a pointless hope, and he knows it.  If Rin were interested, he would have shown it by now.  He's a passionate and theatrical person who loves to surf the typhoons of his own emotions, and though he's not quite what Ai would call honest about them, he at least shows some kind of emotion when he's feeling it, even if it's not exactly the right one.  All he's shown toward Ai is a pointed indifference with varying degrees of frustration.

His diary lies face-down under a growing stack of middle school papers, and he entertains the temptation to pull it out and write about this dilemma, but he's been skimping on his English homework too much and his dad is probably going to skin him alive with words alone if he doesn't absolutely crush the next assignment.

His eyes dart toward the door, wondering whether Mikoshiba is a kinder teacher than Rin, but the allure of Rin leaning over him and washing the scent of his perfumed soap over him, or standing beside him in those baggy green sweats that are strangely perfect for flattering his backside, is too strong to resist.

He glances over his shoulder toward Rin on his bed, already finished with his studies as usual and reading something about the evolution of Olympic swimming.  He seems to be in a stupor, and Ai wonders if snapping him out of it would upset him.

Probably not, he figures after a moment's deliberation; as long as Rin doesn't comment on the increasingly crowded state of his desk, everything should be fine.

"S…enpai?"

Rin lowers the book with the sluggishness of sap in winter and aims an unblinking, tired stare toward him.  "What."

He supposes it wasn't very kind to interrupt Rin after all, but now that he's done so, it would be more rude to back out and tell him he did it for nothing.  He swallows air.  "Can you help me with this, please?"

"Where's your dictionary?"

He's not completely sure — it must be on the desk shelves somewhere — but it wouldn't help him in this case.  "No, it's… it's not a word, Senpai, it's the… I'm having trouble with this type of sentence."

"Use your notes," Rin yawns, returning his book to his nose.

"They're not helping," Ai whines, which he knows would be true even if he had attempted to absorb any of them within the past half hour.  "English is so confusing, why doesn't anything have cases or something, I can't tell what's object and what's subject—"

"Calm down, holy shit," Rin mutters, crawling off the bed and leaving his book propped open against the sheets.  He stands beside Ai with one hip popped, leaning on the desk and flipping through the workbook at Ai's prompting.  His words blur into a quiet rumble, his finger whispering over the pages, and he's so close, his hip brushing Ai's shoulder, the shapely bottom beside him too tempting to not pass edgeways peeks at when he really should be paying attention.  Rin understands organization and structure in a way that Ai just can't, so maths and languages come far more easily to him, and his insight and explanations are invaluable learning tools…

He smells so good, though.

Rin says "That make it any clearer for you?" and Ai nods shakily without having registered a single word.

"A-actually… one more time, please, Senpai?"

He sighs and runs through it again in a tone that is decidedly less patient, and Ai attempts to focus and internalize it this time.  His attempt is negligibly successful because Rin shifts to lean over him properly.

The week drags by like Ai's shoes across the tile floors of the school hallways, partially consumed by Rin and his intoxicating presence, somewhat consumed by tedious homework and Mikoshiba's fearless grins, mostly consumed by trepidation that every single thing Ai strives for, from his grades to his crushes, will burn down in absolute failure.

The Iwatobi club pool isn't as big, so their small team has been invited over rather than trying to transport the entire Samezuka team across town and cram them all into a short-lane pool with a tiny uncovered deck.

The arena is heated and the glass ceiling acts as a greenhouse, so it's warmer in here than anywhere else in the school, but Ai still clutches his shivering elbows to his chest as he shuffles out of the locker room.  He stops with his bare toes curling over the threshold, staring dolefully at his expression in the windows.

He hadn't realized how nervous he was about this.

Some high school romance shouldn't be the defining point of his life, especially with his grades beginning to suffer as course material gets harder, but it feels as though he's about to jump off a precipice, and whether he falls or flies is the wild card that no one can determine.  Mikoshiba seems to believe he'll simply sprout wings at a convenient moment, but Ai is convinced he'll plummet to the bottom, berating himself all the way for having chosen a path that could only lead to this end.

He understands now why they're called crushes; he feels as though the weight of the world as he knows it is bearing down upon him, seeking to shatter his bones.

Mikoshiba's voice echoes in the arena, and the peep of a whistle signals a cacophony of splashing as the warm up drills commence.

Ai steps into the arena.

As if magnetized, his eyes are drawn immediately to Rin, spotting him by the drop of burgundy hair in the sea of black suits and blue room.  Unsurprisingly, his arm is slung around Nanase's shoulders, and he's laughing about something while Nanase affixes his silent gaze upon the opposite wall with disinterest.  The blond one — _Hazuki_ , Ai reminds himself, having taken note of Rin's quiet effusions about his old team and reallotted space in his memory for the gender-swapped names he'd once known, _Nagisa Hazuki_ — is hanging off the arm of the blue-haired one with glasses — _Rei Ryuugazaki_ — and attempting to pull him across the room toward an unclear goal.  Ryuugazaki does not seem willing to go complacently.

The only one that's missing is the one Ai is supposed to see, the one he's startled to realize by the bubbling in his stomach that he's actually _eager_ to see, the one who might be his ticket out of this stupidly painful one-sided affair.

Making himself as small and unobtrusive as possible, he tiptoes to the edge of the pool, near enough to Rin to answer his call should he need it, but not so near as to intrude upon his conversation with Nanase.  The water is broken by swinging arms, droplets flying from fingertips and spraying from toes as a group of backstroke swimmers warms up with an easy 100 meter lap.

Even half-submerged, though, Ai can tell unquestionably which one is him, and a weight drops from within him, making him feel as though his feet aren't quite connected to the concrete anymore.

Despite not giving his full strength, his stroke is instantly recognizable, and Ai remembers as if the elementary relay had been only yesterday.  He's Nanase's devoted best friend, a sweet, affable boy whose soft and doting nature is set at complete odds with his towering frame and brutish swimming style, the epitome of the gentle giant, and as he reaches Ai's end of the pool and climbs out to peel off his goggles and cap, Ai feels an absolute idiot for ever having misplaced the boy in his memory.

Makoto Tachibana is _gorgeous_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guide to: Makoto being hot, Rin being a pissbaby, and Seijuurou being terrible.

A hand towel materializes in Ai's palm, and he holds it out toward Tachibana without a word before he can think about where exactly it came from.

Tachibana wipes water out of his eyes by hand for a moment until he notices the towel being put forth for him, and he takes it with a genial word of gratitude, pressing the entire thing over his face.  The subtle flex of his arms captures Ai's full attention, remembering how he'd showed them off at prefecturals while stretching the clean lines of his back, and his sight has drifted down Tachibana's sides and over his stomach by the time he finishes with the towel.  Ai shakes his head as if snapping out of a trance and tugs the towel from Tachibana's tentatively proffering grip.

Tachibana chuckles, though Ai isn't sure what he's chuckling at, and he says, "Thanks— oh hey, you're Rin's roommate, aren't you?"

His voice is smooth and sweet and gentle, just like Tachibana himself, and Ai is so caught up in the sound of it that he forgets to register the words themselves.  He gapes at Tachibana for a moment, caught in his affable smile and trying to recall what it was that's been asked of him, but Tachibana's features are so _cute_ , from his eyebrows that tilt down on the outsides as if pouting and the grin that resides in his eyes more than his mouth and the strong angles of his chin and _oh no he's hot, he's so hot, how even—_ and abruptly, he realizes he's been staring too long and there's nothing he can say now to seem at all normal.  His stomach sinks with a gurgling sound.  Unable to salvage his first impression or meet Tachibana's friendly gaze any further, he manages to stutter out an affirmative noise before he bolts.

He wedges himself in the line for his own warm-ups, successfully hiding his form between two larger teammates, and stares at the damp towel in his trembling hand.

He wants to slap himself in the forehead and groan at his own stupidity, but he can't do that here without drawing attention and making it infinitely worse.

That was a total and utter disaster.

The peep of Mikoshiba's whistle directly behind Ai makes him jumps so badly the next three or four people behind him crack up.  The captain leans an elbow on his shoulder, and Ai resists the urge to delicately shrug him off; much as he doesn't like being used as an accessory like this, he doesn't want to push the captain away or make a scene.  Mikoshiba moves to take the towel, and on instinct, Ai pulls it out of his reach before realizing what he's doing.  He thrusts it at the captain, to Mikoshiba's laughter, and tries not to flinch away from his ensuing shouts toward the front row taking their places at the starting block.

The whistle sounds again, and the collective splash of nine lanes filling simultaneously resounds in the arena.

Mikoshiba uses the sound cover to murmur in Ai's ear.  "You're welcome for the ice-breaker."

Ai glances at him, about to ask _for the what_ , but it occurs to him the captain means the towel that appeared in his hand seemingly by magic.  "Oh, um.  Thank you, captain."

"Nah, don't mention it," he drawls, waving a hand as if to ward off the topic.  "So?  How'd it go?"

Ai's stomach attempts a complex acrobatic maneuver that leaves him nauseated.  "Awful.  I looked completely ridiculous.  You even tried to help me and I still managed to mess it up."

"I'm sure you were better than you think," Mikoshiba cajoles, patting him on the shoulder.  Ai wants to argue because no, no he wasn't, it was _worse_ than he thinks, is the captain serious, but all he can do is shake his head rapidly before Mikoshiba is moving on, shouting orders toward the swimmers who need work.

Ai looks sidelong toward Rin.

Ryuugazaki seems to have convinced Hazuki to stop pulling on him like a piece of taffy, and Hazuki is nuzzling his crown between Ryuugazaki's shoulder blades instead.  The whining of his voice doesn't carry this distance, but it's plain in his pinched expression.  Ryuugazaki ignores him, speaking to the others with his arms crossed.  Whatever he says makes Tachibana laugh, pulling his eyebrows together and wrinkling his nose, and the laugh carries across the arena, soft and tender as a breeze through leaves.

The sound clenches Ai's stomach, his eyes glued to the way Tachibana's shoulders shake with giggles.  His heart sinks, remembering how he'd balked at the idea of being drawn to anyone but Rin, and he mentally kicks himself for ever having entertained the captain's "solution."  His feelings for Rin are not to be drowned so easily, and the suggestion of Tachibana as a lifeline really has not solved a single solitary thing.  He hadn't expected the guy to actually be _attractive_ —

Nanase steps away from them as though they aren't even there, his face impassive as ever, moving to the starting block as the swimmer in his lane approaches the end of his lap.  Rin lets him go, still grinning, and Ai doesn't miss the way his arm slips from Nanase's shoulders and ghosts fingertips down his back, reluctant hand outstretched for just one second too long.  Nanase does nothing in response.

Ai isn't sure if this means he's accustomed to being touched by Rin and doesn't care, or if it's indicative of something more — maybe both — but whatever the case, it has his stomach flipping with a boiling sea of longing and just a splash of resentment.

Rin throws an arm around Tachibana's shoulders instead, and for a fleeting, terrifying instant, Ai isn't sure which one to feel more jealous of.

Oh, this was stupid.  This was incredibly stupid and he should have just gone on with his practice and ignored the lot of them and pretended he isn't madly in love with his roommate.  He tries to tell himself there's no way he could have known Tachibana would be so cute, and just because he's cute doesn't mean Ai is going to fall for him the way he's fallen for Rin.  He knows now, while he still has the chance to run, and he can carry on avoiding them all as he should have done from the beginning.

His method of avoidance defaults to staying within earshot but feigning an inability to hear.

Between laps, the boys watching from the sidelines talk about everything from the sugar content of Iwatobi chestnut bread to why all of Nanase's swimsuits look the same, with an impassioned digression on Ryuugazaki's part about the strict need to monitor pH-balancing chemicals due to slight variations in buoyancy affecting a swimmer's time — Hazuki insists he's just mad because he's not getting any faster, and Ryuugazaki blushes redder than Rin's hair — but not a word is spoken of Ai by anyone, not even Rin.  It's as if he doesn't exist.

Part of him is grateful, because it means his first impression probably _wasn't_ as stupid as he'd feared.

Part of him is crestfallen because it means his first impression wasn't even memorable.

At least he can slide back into the shadows of everyone mutually ignoring each other without incident or hurt feelings.

When it's over, the Iwatobi club joins Samezuka in their locker room, having used some of the spare lockers to store their clothes.  Ai rinses quickly, preferring to save a full shower for his personal space on his own time, and moves into a toilet stall to change out of his suit and into sweats and a t-shirt.  He waits in the stall until most of the slamming locker doors and rambunctious shouts have faded, minimizing the likelihood of running into someone naked, before he emerges to replace his towel and suit in his locker.  Rin takes forever to shower, so he's usually one of the last to leave and is almost always still there when Ai comes out from his sanctuary in the stalls, but this time, he's not staring broodingly into his locker by himself.  He stands behind Nanase, chin propped on his shoulder and arms wound lazily around his waist as Nanase meticulously folds everything he owns that can be folded and carefully slides it all into his bag one thing at a time.

Ai is sure the others are there because he can hear Hazuki chattering away at light speed to someone, but his gaze tunnels to Rin's form casually draped over Nanase.

He knows he has no chance with Rin, none, no interest from his senior at all and nothing requited, but still, the sight of him touching someone else causes a stirring in his stomach that makes him feel as though he might throw up.

Normally, he would wait for Rin and keep him company as he finished packing.  This time, Ai feels Rin has enough to keep him occupied.

He darts past silently, hoping to remain inconspicuous, and scuttles from the room.  Just outside the door, Hazuki is gleefully shouting about something to Ryuugazaki, tugging on his sleeves hard enough to pull him over, but Ryuugazaki remains unaffected and stoic as he leans against the wall with one leg propped back.

"Don't call it a slumber party when it's just the three of us, Nagisa-kun."

"But it _iiiis_ a slumber party," Hazuki sings, giving Ryuugazaki's windbreaker cuffs an extra hard tug for emphasis.  He turns his imploring gaze toward Ai, and his heart stops for the moment it takes him to realize Hazuki is not looking at him, but past him, toward someone leaning against the window on the other side of the doorway.  "Right Mako-chan?"

Tachibana's noncommittal chuckle drifts from behind him, and to his horror, Mikoshiba's voice is the one to answer.  "They say three's a crowd, right?  Call it whatever you want."  Hazuki gives a triumphant squeal.  "So why isn't Nanase joining you guys?"

Having accidentally inserted himself into a conversation among friends and miraculously gone unnoticed, Ai breezes through and speed walks away.  Tachibana's apologetic reply floats after him.  "He's having Rin over.  In hindsight, we probably should have asked him first if he were busy tonight…"

The words follow Ai out of the building and along the walk to his dorm like a swarm of midges, buzzing around his ears even after he's slammed the door to his room and flounced into his desk chair, staring emptily at the blank pages of his English workbook.

He will not cry.

He staunchly refuses to cry, and no matter how his eyes are stinging and his face puckers with the ache that throbs in his chest, he absolutely will not cry.

It's Friday.

If Nanase can't go to his club's slumber party at all, that means he's occupied with Rin for the entire night.

And since it's Friday, who knows how long he'll stay into Saturday?  He might even stay into Sunday.

Such an extended stay begins to bear meaning when looking at their history.

Ai remembers how Rin had hung all over Nanase at the elementary tournament just as he's done every day they've been near each other since regionals, but Nanase had been openly irritated by it when they were little.  He accepts Rin's touches without comment now that their strife has been resolved.  From what Ai can tell, Nanase's tacit permission is as close as he will ever come to reciprocating Rin's behavior, and the change from outright aversion counts for just as much as it would if he were to turn around and kiss him.

Ai had known, on some level, that Rin's fixation with Nanase was not of an incurious degree or platonic nature.  He had also known, through what he'd witnessed at regionals and various hearsay, that Nanase felt quite deeply for Rin as well.  He had seen the stunned hollowness of Nanase's face after Rin's tantrum as if the screaming had impaled him, and he hadn't been blind either to the tight embrace they had shared after the relay, tuning out the touch of the others as though all the world had narrowed to the two of them alone, or the tears that streaked both their faces when at last they'd pulled apart.

Ai had known all along, though he'd refused to admit it, that there was something mutual between them.  He'd known he never had a chance, that Rin isn't interested, that he's probably as in love with Nanase as Ai is with him and _no, stop crying, you promised you wouldn't cry._

Clearing his face with a brusque swipe of his sleeve, he sniffs and attempts to busy himself with English homework.

His mind swims, and he can't focus on English without thinking of Rin, and the image of him draws up thoughts of his closeness and his easy intelligence and his swift murmur in Ai's ear with his palms heavy on Ai's shoulders, and then all he can see is those same hands around Nanase's hips.

He shoves the workbook off the desk and buries his face in shaking fingers as it clatters to the floor.

He really needs to snap himself out of this so he can do better in class.  Ideally, he would be able to use classwork as a distraction from this mess, but the heartache is so distracting it pulls his focus away from his studies and leaves him unable to think of anything but the burning in his throat.

Raised voices in the hall draw his attention.  After a moment of unintelligible shouting, he realizes with a swoop of nausea that it's Rin and Mikoshiba.

"You're not fucking coming."

"Why not?"

"Because you weren't invited!"

"I was brought into a conversation about it; I think that makes me invited."

"No it fucking doesn't!  Not to Haru's place, anyway!  Are you stupid?"

He wipes his face better, blinking the last of the tears away, and is bending off the chair to gather his workbook when the key clicks in the lock.

"Those are some strong words to direct at your captain."

Mikoshiba's tone is teasing but his voice deep as ever, and the mumble of Rin's response is subdued even though the door swings open to remove the muffle of the wood.  "You're still not invited."

Mikoshiba leans on the door, keeping it propped open, and sets his Cheshire grin on Ai.  "What do you think, Nitori?"

Ai sits up hastily, flattening the pages of his workbook in his lap.  "I, uh…"  Rin strides past with his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting to Ai for a second in a warning shot as he passes his shoulder.  "What are we talking about?"

"You came out of the locker room when Tachibana was talking about a slumber party, right?"  Ai freezes; he hadn't realized anyone had registered his presence.  "Well, Matsuoka's going to Nanase's instead.  Wanna go with?"

Behind him, Rin's gym bag hits the floor beside his desk with atypical force.

"Um.  I, uh… I wouldn't…"  The idea of getting between Rin and Nanase and preventing anything from developing is as tempting as a lifetime's supply of free Pocari or the promise of straight A grades until the end of graduate school, but the throbbing ache in his chest tells him those efforts would be as futile as they would be embarrassing; something has already developed, and there's nothing left to prevent.  He doesn't own Rin any more than he owns the bed frame they share or the chair he pulls his feet up onto, hugging his knees to his collar.  "If you haven't been invited, I don't think—"

"Being told about it is as good as being invited, isn't it?" he cuts in, his grin aimed at Rin's back beyond Ai.  "After all, decent people shouldn't tell you their exciting plans and rub it in your face if they don't intend to have you along."

"Nobody said I'm a decent person," Rin mutters.

Ai turns in his seat.  "I would."

"No one asked you!"

Rin's tendency to bare his teeth when irritated makes for an intimidating grimace, and Ai doesn't hold his glare, turning away from his stiffened form to look back to the captain, who has a disapproving eyebrow raised.  "That wasn't very nice."

"I don't care!  You're not coming, either of you!"

"And why not?"

Ai shifts to return to his workbook and pretends to be busy with studying.  He wishes his desk were cleaner.  Rin's voice sounds like a knife on a grindstone.  "Because you weren't invited!"

"Not good enough," Mikoshiba yawns, stretching his arms in front of him and arching his back.  Ai can hear the deep pops of his vertebrae from his desk.  "Give me a better one or we're crashing."

Ai's head snaps up.  "We?"

"Yeah, man!"  Mikoshiba steps away from the door, extending an arm to tap a fist into Ai's shoulder.  "You're with me on this, right?"  Ai's tongue trips over the rising ball of nausea for a way to politely decline, not wanting Rin to attempt to pop his head like a zit for the untold dozenth time, but Mikoshiba cuts him off with a chuckle.  "Rhetorical question, of course you are."

"No, he's not!" Rin snaps, stomping over to them, "I'm spending the weekend with Haru and you guys are staying right the fuck here.  And you, get out of my room!"

Mikoshiba props an elbow on the back of Ai's chair and leans down to murmur to him.  "Sounds like we've got two nights to prep for instead of one.  Better start packing."

His head shakes rapidly.  "Captain, I really don't want—"

"Hey."  His hand cards through Ai's hair, fingertips rough and callused.  His voice has gone soft, his face tender with a hint of underlying smile in a reassuring expression startlingly reminiscent of Tachibana.  "Trust me on this."

Rin's voice has dropped to a growl.  "I won't tell you again."

"Good, glad you've stopped resisting!" the captain exclaims, jerking upright.  Rin starts to argue, but he's cut off.  "Then we're settled!  Come on, Nitori."

He feels like they've each seized an arm and are attempting to pull the entirety of him in their own direction, not caring how much gets left behind so long as they get the majority.  He'd really rather not upset Rin, but the captain's reassuring tone indicates he knows what he's doing, and he's not exactly willing to disobey what seems to be essentially a direct order.  He glances toward Rin, fists curled at his sides and jaw set, and he can't imagine what's so important about crashing Rin's party that Mikoshiba would insist so strongly upon it, or what's so crucial to Rin about seeing Nanase alone that he'd flat out refuse anyone else's company…

The light clicks on in his head.

It wouldn't matter unless Rin intended to make some kind of move on him and wanted privacy.

The nausea in his gut turns to a bubbling that feels a lot like anger.  He may not be able to prevent feelings from emerging, but if he's given the chance to hinder the physical advance of their relationship, he can't deny the childish desire to jump on that opportunity when presented to him.

He isn't given the time to say so, because Rin grumbles, "I suppose there's nothing I can do to stop you."

"Nope!  You'll just have to deal."

The captain leaves with a shout over his shoulder to wait for him, and Rin throws his jacket at the door as it shuts after him.

He whips a glare toward Ai.

He shrugs, trying to convey with his expression that whatever happens now is not his fault and definitely not his idea, and mumbles, "Guess we'd better get packing, then, Senpai?"

Rin huffs, storming to the closet to pull out an overnight bag, but says nothing to deter him from doing the same.

Somehow, Ai really doubts tonight will be as cool as the captain is making it out to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guide to: Seijuurou having interesting taste in dakimakura, terrible taste in pizza, and a superhuman ability to plan by the seat of his pants.

The train ride into port-side Iwatobi is as quiet and awkward as the wait in the hall for Mikoshiba to emerge from his room laden with a body-length pillow with Annie Leonhardt on it, a duffel bag that looks far too heavy for its size and clinks suspiciously when jostled, and a grin that by all laws of physics should unhinge his jaw.  He'd maintained the grin as fiercely as Rin had maintained his scowl throughout the walk to the Samezuka station and the wait for the train.  Ai, made anxious by wordless pauses and desperate to maintain conversation, had attempted to ask Mikoshiba about the contents of the bag, but all he'd received in response was the captain's ominous laughter and a terse "shut it" from Rin directed at both of them, so he'd resigned himself to silence.

Ai glances at the captain, perched on the seat to his left.  The grin is still there, the duffel bag cradled protectively in his lap, and Annie's unchanging expression from the seat beside him looks less than impressed.

He hugs his own backpack and pillow tighter and glances toward Rin.

His headphones are locked over his ears just as firmly as his eyes are locked on the sun setting through the opposite window, and his dark scowl has faded to a blank, apathetic stare in his defeat.  Ai is tempted to reach for his hand on his lap as a gesture of solace, but he knows it would not go over well given he's just interrupted Rin's private weekend with Nanase, even though his involvement is the result of being shanghaied more than a voluntary intrusion.  Rin isn't so discriminatory as to take the difference into account.  Ai also knows that Mikoshiba would disapprove of attempts at physical closeness to Rin; he doubtlessly has something up his sleeve to turn this predicament in Ai's favor, seeing how eager he was to throw him into it.

Rin's phone buzzing in his pocket vibrates the whole bench of seats, and he tugs his headphones down to answer it with a curt informality.  It must be Nanase, then; Ai doubts Rin would speak so familiarly with anyone else.  An intimidating drumbeat issues from his loose headphones as he makes a few grunts that could be positive or negative, Ai can't tell, and with a heavy sigh, aims an embittered stare toward the guys beside him.

"You guys want pizza?"

Ai is impartial, but Mikoshiba cries, "Hell yeah!  What're we having?"

"What d'you want?"

Mikoshiba requests six boxes of breadsticks and a pizza involving spinach and boiled chicken whose description makes Ai's stomach twist.  By the look on Rin's face as he relays the message, he isn't any more tempted.  Ai shrugs and mumbles being fine with just cheese.  The relief in Rin's voice makes pride swell in Ai's chest until he hangs up and snaps his headphones on and goes back to giving them both a hard dose of cold shoulder.

Rin stands before the train has begun to slow, apparently knowing the route so well as to be tipped off by a minute shift in the tracks or inconspicuous landmark that goes unnoticed by Ai, and leans on the hold bar by the door he knows will open, his hands buried in his pockets.  Ai stares at the delicate bones of his wrist where it disappears into his jeans, and between them, Mikoshiba catches his eye and gives a tiny shake of the head.  Ai attempts to ask him with expression alone what he's planning, because it must be something, but he just gives a knowing smile and stands as the train announces its approach to the station.

By the time the boys have disembarked into the warm autumn air, the sun has dropped beyond the sea, throwing a splash of vivid orange over the deep purple water like paint spilling over a sheet.  Ai hasn't gotten to see much of this part of town, only coming here after night had already fallen for the festival, and he's so mesmerized by it that he doesn't notice for a moment that Rin has already taken off toward the shrine ahead of them on the mountain slope, its unpainted arches peeking above the rooftops and catching the last hints of the twilight's pink glow.  A lazy breeze rolls in from the port, carrying with it the chill and bracken smell of the sea.  Ai hugs his pillow closer to his chest, wishing he'd brought a thicker jacket.

Mikoshiba doesn't seem bothered, devoting more attention to securing his cumbersome bag from bouncing than to anything else, and neither does Rin, forging ahead without care for the pace of the two behind him, weaving through the narrow streets and vaulting staircases two steps at a time.  The percussive tapping from his music is audible even with his head start — at least, it is at first; after a moment of confusion, exchanging puzzled looks with the captain, Ai and he wordlessly agree that another noise is overtaking Rin's music.  It sounds sort of like a car motor, but higher and tinnier, and Ai is perplexed by the dissonance because aren't these roads too narrow for cars?

At last, Mikoshiba looks back over his shoulder, and his eyes go wide as his feral grin returns.  He murmurs, "Oh this just keeps getting better and better."

Ai stops to turn and see what Mikoshiba is looking at, but the feeble beep of a horn answers him, and the emergence of headlights casting his shadow past Rin is enough to make Rin stop and yank his headphones down, whirling to look back.

A two-seat buggy smaller than a golf cart trundles up the lane, driven by a man with a blond undercut and a Hawaiian print shirt louder than his buggy's engine.  He catches sight of the boys and raises a hand in greeting, and Ai starts to move out of his way, but both Rin and Mikoshiba double back to greet him.  Despite not knowing what's going on, Ai decides to follow, and the guy cuts the motor to call out in a voice that boasts a far more impressive growl.

"Rin!  Long time no see!"

Rin chuckles, his mouth curving with recognition, and grips the man's hand firmly in a shake.  "Hoped Haru had ordered from you."

Mikoshiba, never shy about approaching others, steps past Ai to grasp the man's hand the instant Rin releases it.  "You're his old swim coach, aren't you?"  The man nods, and Mikoshiba supplies with eyes squinted in perplexity, "I want to say… Sasabe?"

The man nods, a smile breaking over his face.  A brown star decorates one buzzed side of his hair, and Ai can't tell if the star has been dyed in or the rest has been bleached out.  "And you're the Samezuka kid who broke that record at prefecturals?"

Mikoshiba grins.  "Broke it at regionals, too."  Sasabe's eyes pop, and Mikoshiba introduces himself and Ai, who has gone rigid and silent and barely remembers he should be nodding and bowing lightly in the right places, before he points to the flat white boxes behind the two-seat bench that Ai hadn't even noticed and exclaims, "I bet I know where you're going with those!"

"Tachibana's place, actually," Sasabe rumbles, and Ai snaps from drowning in an ocean of total confusion to paying acute attention at the mention of that name.  _He lives near here?_   "I was gonna drop these off and run, knowing how Nagisa's gonna try to hold me back like I'm some middle school fangirl he's trying to impress."

"Oh," Mikoshiba muses, his voice devious, "so the Iwatobi boys had their sleepover after all then, eh?"  Rin sighs and scratches between his eyebrows as if he can tell where this is going and he doesn't like it.  Ai can't, and he looks to the captain for assistance.  "Well now, Sasabe-san, if they're gonna hold you up, why not just… skip over them entirely?  Make 'em come get their food if they want it so bad?"

"Nope," Rin interjects, "that's not happening.  You guys crashing is bad enough.  If you want a party, stay with their party and leave me alone."

At the same moment realization crashes into Ai like the waves onto the port shore, Mikoshiba holds his arms out as though Rin is missing a very important detail.  "Party's at where I'm at, Matsuoka."

"I, uh," Sasabe chuckles, "I happened to notice your bag and have to wonder if it's full of, let's say, party supplies?  You wouldn't happen to have any Sapporo, would you?"  Mikoshiba nods impishly, and Sasabe gives a false cough and mutters, "Well, I don't suppose it would be very responsible to leave all you minors without supervision for a whole night, never know what bad luck could befall good kids these days."

"Sharp man," Mikoshiba cackles, and he grabs the roll bar of the cart and swings his legs into the back.  "To Casa Nanase, away!"

Sasabe laughs and turns the motor on, and with Rin's irritated sigh as he folds himself into the passenger seat, Ai supposes that's all the discussion he's going to hear about that.  Climbing into the back with Mikoshiba and the pizzas, he's glad the vibrations of the cart as it zips along the road veil the shaking in his limbs.  Was this Mikoshiba's plan all along, to get Ai and Tachibana together outside of practice?  Rin's presence is the perfect bridge between them, providing reasonable excuse for Ai to be there, but how could Mikoshiba have organized this unless he knew where Tachibana and Nanase lived in relation to each other?  He can't help but think this all seems a tad premeditated, and he hopes the captain will be kind enough to explain it to him later.

The cart slows in front of a house with pillars supporting a room over the entry, and Sasabe hits the horn an excessive amount of times before speeding away.  Ai is a bit too nauseated by the ever-changing pace to be sure, but he thinks he sees a curtain part on the upper level before the cart swerves around a corner out of sight.

Sasabe calls to the back that it's faster to take the stairs up to the archway, but since the cart won't go there, he's going to take the long way around.  Mikoshiba shrugs.  "Yeah, that's cool, whatever."

They round a hairpin turn that nearly dislodges Ai, and Mikoshiba grabs at his backpack straps, laughing with a level of amusement that Ai feels is undue.  As he settles, Rin fumbles in his back pocket for his phone, the screen already lit with an incoming call that he presses to his ear.  "Yeah."  Ai can't hear the words spoken from the other end, but he catches just enough of the voice to recognize Tachibana's timbre.  Rin stares over the seat at Mikoshiba, who flashes him a grin, and even in the growing night, Ai can see something within him give.  He chuckles.  "Yeah?  Well if you're so sure it was me you saw, you should know by now that Samezuka's crashing this shit."  Mikoshiba cups his hands over his mouth and crows.  "We've kidnapped the pizza man and all his wares, and what you're gonna do about it is, you're gonna gather up the Scooby Gang and bring them to Haru's house with toothbrushes and shit if you ever want to see this delicious—" he looks to one of the boxes, reading its label quickly "—four-cheese carnivore pizza with extra bacon _ever again_."

Through the phone, over the whine of the engine and the clatter of the wheels on the pavement, Ai clearly hears Hazuki's voice scream _noooo my bacon!_

Mikoshiba snorts into his shoulder and bursts out laughing, and Sasabe chuckles, "That'll get 'em."  With Rin's turn of mood, Ai finds a smile spreading over his cheeks, and he leans over the backrest to remind him of their plethora of breadsticks.  Mikoshiba cuts him off with a yell that those are _his and his alone_ , and by the time Rin hangs up and relays that the rest of the Iwatobi club is joining them at Nanase's place, he's grinning. It is with great willpower that Ai resists poking a fingertip into his dimples, settling instead for quietly adoring the scent of Rin's shampoo mixed with the briny air.  He thinks Mikoshiba has caught on and is trying to give him warning looks, but he pretends not to notice.

Sasabe pulls up alongside an unpainted picket fence and stops the cart almost under the eave above the entry.  Rin slides out and moves to the door, opening it and shouting into the house without bothering to knock or ring the bell.  Ai follows Mikoshiba's lead, hopping out of the cart and taking up as many pizza boxes as he can carry.  The breadstick boxes are smaller and less unwieldy, so Mikoshiba ends up taking all of those into one broad arm so he can better handle his duffel bag with his free hand.  Either Tachibana ordered a lot of pizza, or Nanase ordered more than Ai would have anticipated — maybe both — because there are enough boxes that Ai and Sasabe are both laden to the shoulders.  Ai has to stuff his pillow between his bag and his back so he has enough arm space for all the boxes.

Nanase stands just inside the door, his feet bare and the collar of his shirt large enough that it hangs off one shoulder, silently watching his uninvited guests kick off their shoes and step up into the hall, where Rin is directing traffic toward the kitchen.  Noticing Ai's struggle with his luggage and the food, Rin halts him and takes over the load of boxes, rushing into the next room and snapping orders at his elders.  Ai stares around the darkened room he's been left in, noting the low wooden table and the two cushions set out in preparation for entertaining a single guest.

His stomach gurgles with guilt, and he wrings one of his backpack straps.  Why did he let himself get pressured into this, again?

The front door slides open again, and Tachibana's warm voice issues a greeting before Hazuki is shouting about his bacon and pushing past into the sitting room as a streak of blond that practically bowls Ai over in his sprint to the kitchen.  Tachibana yells after him, stumbling over the threshold in stocking feet, and as he falls into the doorframe, Ai's breath catches, his sight captured instantly and completely.  The neckline of his shirt hangs lower than Nanase's and the sleeves are shorter, showing most of his collarbones and nearly all of his arms, which bunch with the effort of supporting his weight against the doorframe.

"Nagisa!  You've still got your shoes on!"

Hazuki's voice in the kitchen is conspicuously garbled.  "I need to protect my bacon!"

Mikoshiba laughs, but Tachibana's eyes widen in exasperation.  "Nagisa!"

The more he stares at Tachibana's arms, the more Ai's collar feels uncomfortably hot, and hooking a finger over it to tug it down seems to be the action that alerts Tachibana to his silent presence in the shadowed sitting room.  For a moment, Tachibana looks like a child who's been caught swearing before he rights himself with a sheepish smile, going a bit pink in the hall light.  The flush is unbearably cute and makes Ai's stomach do somersaults, his brain feeling like a toaster thrown into a bathtub.

Oh, right.  That's why.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guide to: getting settled at uncomfortable parties.

Hazuki proves himself too difficult to retrieve, and Ryuugazaki resorts to picking him up and sitting him on the kitchen counter to pull his sneakers off his swinging feet, loudly complaining about Hazuki's weight and general temperament and inability to sit still.

At a safe distance behind them, Tachibana giggles hopelessly, and Ai definitely isn't enraptured by the way he curls his fingers over his mouth and hugs his elbow to his chest as he laughs.

He most certainly isn't so enraptured that he doesn't notice Rin bypassing him until the scent of his shampoo trickles in, and he isn't so embarrassed by this that he turns away from the kitchen in pursuit, seeking to redeem this oversight.  Nanase hasn't moved from the sunken entry, scrupulously pushing all the sneakers into a neat line with his bare toes.  Rin steps down to meet him, speaking to him in a voice so low it doesn't carry as he leans a shoulder against the closed door, Mikoshiba's pillow draped over his crossed arms.  Annie looks nearly as exasperated as he does.

Ai attempts to ignore Tachibana's laughter in the kitchen and shuffles toward the entry.  Rin notices him first, going suddenly quiet and looking toward him.  Nanase turns slowly, as if running out of gas, and greets him with a bland stare and a blink that makes him look as if he's about to fall asleep where he stands.

Ai can tell his smile is going to be shaky before he makes it.  "Good evening, Nanase-senpai."  His host says nothing in return, and Ai can't keep meeting his gaze anymore, so he stares at the low-hanging neckline of his shirt instead.  The teal collar clashes with the blue of Nanase's eyes.  "I just… wanted to thank you, so much, for letting us stay with you on such short— well, really, on no notice.  You're very gracious."

The breath Nanase takes before he responds is louder than his words, and Ai feels compelled to search for a remote control and turn up the volume.  "Sure.  If it irritates Rin, it's fine by me."

Rin needs volume control as well, but Ai would sit on the down button this time.  "Hey!  Don't fuck with me, you little turd, you get fucking _miserable_ when I'm upset."

"I get amused.  You work yourself up over nothing."

"It's not nothing!" Rin snaps, loudly enough that Hazuki and Ryuugazaki's argument in the kitchen goes silent.  Ai had thought Rin's mood had changed for the better in Sasabe's pizza cart, and he's startled and confused and wants to derail Rin's anger before it can get going, to insist he means well and hadn't meant to cause a problem, but Rin steamrolls on before he can pull a coherent sentence out of the stutters in his throat.  "It was supposed to be just you and me, and then Larry and Shemp decided to drag themselves along!"

In the humiliation of not knowing what in the world that reference is supposed to mean, Ai's teeth give way and words tumble out at last.  "I'm so sorry for imposing on you, Nanase-senpai, it wasn't… I didn't—"

"Doesn't matter," Nanase says, his voice as flat as his expression.  Ai isn't sure whether he means his presence isn't bothersome, or that his apology is meaningless because he's here regardless, but before he can riddle it out, Nanase gently tugs the pillow from his grip and takes his backpack, heading for the stairs as he shoulders it.  Rin accompanies him and murmurs something to him as they climb that Ai can't decipher.

With a long, heavy sigh, Ai decides he will not let himself be troubled by it, and hangs his jacket on the coat rack before shuffling into the kitchen.

He attempts to tune out Tachibana's stretched form reaching into upper levels of cabinetry in search of something, and focuses instead on satisfying his gurgling stomach.  Pizza boxes cover all the counters except the space occupied by Hazuki, who continues to swing his stocking feet, his shoes lost somewhere.  A thin orange ribbon of grease slides down his chin and drips onto a napkin someone has tucked into the front of his shirt; Ai suspects this is the work of Ryuugazaki, as Hazuki doesn't seem to possess the concern to do it himself.  He tries to worm around Mikoshiba, who is loudly attending to his bag while passing Sasabe a sleek amber bottle, and reach the pizza boxes past Hazuki's waist, but he's nearly clocked in the head by Tachibana's swinging elbow and barely dodges in time, running into a startled Mikoshiba.

Tachibana notices with a cry of apology that Ai almost doesn't hear over Hazuki's shouts demanding to see the contents of Mikoshiba's bag, and Ai is buffeted away from the pizza by Hazuki throwing himself across the counter, shoving an entire slice in his mouth at once.  Even muffled by food, the boy's voice is uncomfortably shrill, and it makes Ai grit his teeth.  "Ohhh you have Sapporo!"

"Yeah," Mikoshiba laughs, no longer showing active concern for Ai now that he's stepped out of the fracas.  "I've got a bunch of Suntory, I've got Chu-Hi—"

Hazuki lets out a squeal and demands, "Gimme!" prompting laughter from Mikoshiba and stern scolding from Ryuugazaki, who pushes Ai further from the pizza to stomp over to the grinning Hazuki and readjust his bib.

Ai finds himself bumped into Tachibana's waiting embrace, and abruptly, he's not okay with the idea of being touched by anyone.  The abundance of bodies in such a limited space is beginning to make his head spin.  He attempts to step away until he realizes that's exactly what Tachibana is trying to do for him, creating a cage with his arms to shield Ai from the crowd and carefully ushering him back toward the sitting room as he speaks in a gentle voice.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with a sheepish giggle, "I was trying to get everyone some plates but I nearly took you out there, didn't I?"

An absurd thought to the effect of _you can take me out any time_ flits through Ai's mind, and he blinks it away in confusion, his mouth moving automatically to dismiss others from fretting over him.  "It's okay, I'm fine."

"It's the last thing you'd deserve after helping me with a towel today, eh?"  The uncalled-for jokes in Ai's thoughts are replaced by sudden horror, and his gaze is drawn instantly to Tachibana's face, all genuine softness and smiles and no hint of comprehension as to how humiliating that moment had been for Ai.  There's no way Tachibana should recognize him, let alone still be thinking about that; he'd thought he'd been completely unmemorable.  But he doesn't seem to think of it the same way Ai does, for some reason, showing no consideration to the strange reaction he'd received.  Having guided him into the sitting room, Tachibana gives a tender pat to his shoulder and says, "So I didn't catch your name, by the way?"

"Um."  Ai hears Rin and Nanase's footsteps on the stairs, and it tightens his chest.  "Nitori.  Ai'ichirou Nitori."

"Good to meet you," he says with a grin, inclining his head in greeting.  "Makoto Tachibana."

Ai grinds the ball of his foot into the tatami.  "I know.  Rin-senpai talks about you guys all the time."

This is an incredibly personal and blunt thing to say, especially with Rin entering the room as the words tumble from his mouth, and Ai's face prickles with heat.  He contemplates asking Nanase to borrow some office supplies so he can simply glue his stupid mouth shut.  Again, though, Tachibana doesn't seem to register the embarrassment Ai feels.  "Aw, cool!  You were going for the pizza, right?  Let me get some for you; what kind do you want?"

"He said cheese on the train," Rin murmurs as he breezes past, casting a glance over the shoulder of his baggy hoodie.  Ai can't be sure, but he thinks Rin's voice and expression are a lot more subdued and accepting now than they were a moment ago.  Maybe Nanase talked to him?  The idea of Nanase talking to anyone for anything is almost laughable, but the idea of Rin calming down on his own is equally implausible; Rin tends to stew on the things that bother him until he's worked himself into a tantrum and he has to go for a jog or take a session with a punching bag to cool off.

Ai doesn't get time to ruminate on it, though, because Tachibana darts into the kitchen, slipping through the bedlam around the counter with surprising ease, and returns with a paper plate stacked with a few slices of cheese pizza.  He hands the plate to Ai and takes the top slice for himself, using his broad palms as a plate.

Ai isn't very comfortable with eating now that his nerves have been set off, but he has no idea what to say to Tachibana, so he forces a bite of pizza too big for his mouth and struggles through getting it down, hoping this is a sufficient excuse for no one to engage him in conversation for at least five minutes.

At some point between Hazuki's sixth and seventh slice, someone suggests sitting around the table.

Hazuki gives a gleeful shout at this idea, and Ai looks over his shoulder toward it.  It doesn't seem to be large enough to comfortably accommodate a crowd of this volume.  Whoever he ends up next to, it's going to be pretty close quarters.

He tries to find Rin during the shuffle, but somehow he ends up bumped to the back end of the table, sharing a corner with Ryuugazaki.  He looks uncomfortable enough at being seated next to someone unfamiliar, but the discomfort on his face reaches levels beyond the negligible when Hazuki leans forcibly into his side with a giggle, pushing him into Ai's shoulder.  Ryuugazaki braces himself on the edge of the table and trills, "Nagisa-kun, please stop it!"

Ai scoots out of their way, toward the person on his other side, and realizes when the person laughs that it's Tachibana.  He's sharing his corner of the table with Nanase.  Rin is on Nanase's other side, exactly diagonal from Ai and seemingly ignorant of this fact, having too much fun attempting to poke an irritated Nanase's nose with the tip of his slice of pizza.

Also ignorant to Ai's separation anxiety is Tachibana, who gives him a gentle nudge and asks if he'd like more pizza.  His nearly-bare arm is hypnotically warm.  Ai shakes his head silently and looks anywhere but at Tachibana's kind face.

Directly across from Ai, Mikoshiba catches his eye and grins.

Ai shuts his eyes for a moment to avoid rolling them and goes back to his piece of pizza, focusing all his attention on keeping the cheese in place.

Sasabe, across from Tachibana and cornered with Rin, asks about joint practices and individual improvement rates.

This sparks a discussion about endurance versus raw strength that Ai is happy to stay out of, shrinking deeper and deeper into his own shoulders as he plows through more pizza than he should possibly be comfortable with.  During the conversation, Hazuki darts into the kitchen occasionally and signals each return with the crack of another Chu-Hi can opening.  His cheeks steadily turn pink enough to match his eyes, his hair having been drawn into a topknot to display his reddening forehead, and Ai sizes up the growing collection of empty cans surrounding him.  Between them, Ryuugazaki fidgets uncomfortably, clearly distraught but not in any place to say anything.

Sasabe brings in another box of pizza, and when it's gone, Mikoshiba supplies the next.  Five of his six breadstick boxes lie empty behind him.  Everyone has a bottle or can of some color in their hands — even Ryuugazaki, though he's still working on his first one.  At first, Ai assumes Nanase to be abstaining from the drink since his volume and behavior haven't changed and feels a surge of affection for him, but when he puts his pizza down, he picks up a can from the floor.  So he is drinking after all… and, Ai notices with a nauseous tumble of his stomach, so is Rin, who has at least two brown bottles empty in front of him as he nurses another.

Ai has no idea how he should feel about this, but his instinctive reaction, unjustifiable though it may be, is anger.

Tachibana shifts beside him, preparing to stand.  Ai hadn't noticed they were still touching at the hip until he moves.  He looks at Ai, at his empty plate and empty hands, and murmurs so as not to interrupt the conversation, "I'm going to get another drink, do you want one?"

Ai stares across the table at Mikoshiba, his savior and guide, happily chugging the last foam out of his own bottle, and doesn't think he's ever felt so alone.

He can't raise his voice above a squeak.  "Oh no that's okay, I'm not drinking."

Somehow, Hazuki hears him.  His voice, normally bright like a little bell, has gone screechy and unbearably loud in his inebriation, like a megaphone with piercing feedback.  "What do you mean you're not drinking!  Have a drink, have one!"  To Ai's horror, Hazuki produces an open, partially-drunk can and thrusts it at him.  "Driiiiink!"

Ai's hands shoot to his chest, knotting up and shivering.  He stares at the offensive can, unable to pull his gaze away.  He murmurs, "Oh no, no that's okay!" but Hazuki leans clear over a loudly protesting Ryuugazaki and pushes it right at his face, hearing nothing.  He jerks back on impulse, and people are staring at him, he can feel it, he has to dispel the tension.  "Really it's okay!  I'm sorry, it's okay, I'm just not drinking, I'm sorry—"

Rin's voice cuts in, all nonchalance and contentment.  "Just take one, Nitori, it'll make everything easier."

Ai wants to turn an incredulous stare toward Rin — is he really this oblivious to Ai's discomfort? — but he doesn't get the chance because Hazuki is crawling across the table now, eliciting aggravated shouts from Ryuugazaki.

At last, Tachibana interferes, gentle as ever, and carefully guides Hazuki back into his own seat.  "If he's not drinking, Nagisa, then he's not drinking.  Don't push him."  Hazuki makes a high-pitched keening sound until Tachibana points out, "More for you then, right?"

Hazuki barely waits a blink before responding, "All _right!"_   He slurps at the can as if nothing just happened.

Tachibana's arm drapes across Ai's shoulders, and the burn creeping up Ai's neck for a plethora of reasons makes him aware his face is far too red to ignore.  Tachibana's voice is soothing in his ear.  "Come to the kitchen with me, it's a bit loud in here isn't it?"

Ai looks to his face, the sweet and serene smile he's always giving, and a strange shock flits through him as he notices the slight lines of worry creasing the corners of his eyes, the tightness around his jaw, and suddenly sees that smile for what it is — a construct.  It's a carefully constructed safe haven that Ai can turn to without fear of being judged or turned away.

All at once, he realizes Tachibana recognizes every ounce of discomfort he feels, and chooses to deflect the uncomfortable situations in a way that doesn't call out Ai's feelings.

He's trying to protect him.

The surge of affection he'd felt for Nanase a moment ago swells toward Tachibana, and Ai grips the waist of his shirt with gratitude, nodding wordlessly.  Tachibana replies with a grin and stands, helping Ai to his feet, and guides him into the empty kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i apologize for the delay  
> this hiatus was even worse than Eren Can't Read ohh my god i'm a bad writer

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even gonna bother trying to make an update schedule for this; just understand that I've got work and commissions and conventions and health problems and crap, so I'm probably going to be all hells of inconsistent. Apologies in advance.
> 
> my tumblr: [mitsumurata](http://mitsumurata.tumblr.com)
> 
> my lovely beta: [[AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyrienix)] [[tumblr](http://officialkierwalker.tumblr.com)]
> 
> tracked tags: [#mitsumurata](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/mitsumurata), [#Nitori's Declassified](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/nitori%27s-declassified) (please keep in mind that tumblr only counts the first five tags in a post for dash tags)
> 
> tags I use: [#Nitori's Declassified](http://tumblr.com/tagged/nitori%27s-declassified), [#fic: Nitori's Declassified Bad Food Survival Guide](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-nitori%27s-declassified-bad-food-survival-guide), [#MakoAi](http://tumblr.com/tagged/makoai), [#MakoTori](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/makotori), [#Blake writes](http://tumblr.com/tagged/blake-writes)


End file.
